Artistry & Choreography

I distinctly remember sitting in front of the television set at my Mother-In-Law's home in the late summer of 1995, in Weatherford, Oklahoma, as the 1995 NFL season kicked off. It was one of the most lethargic, ho-hum, anticlimactic moments of my life, as it marked the first time in 15 years the NFL would be without the great one...the immortal Joe Montana, who had retired that previous off season.

I found myself staring off into space, wishing the meaningless game would hurry up & reach its conclusion (which is precisely the way my wife feels about any game involving a ball & a hired squad of overpaid, muscular goons).

It's probably the way the city of Chicago also felt after Jordan hung it up for good, as there are just some shoes that can never be filled.

That being acknowledged, I was once again reminded of such greatness last night. The New England Patriots are about the closest facsimile one will find to the 1980's 49ers Dynasty/finely tuned machine led by Unstoppable Joe.

I could brag about Tom "Terrific" Brady. I could go on & on about the aloof wizard/mad scientist, Bill Belichick, who conjurs up his terribly complex defensive schemes from the sidelines with the greatest of ease. I could also point out the Pats put Randy Moss, the best (& hands down most eccentric) receiver in the league, on the chop block earlier this season.

I could also add (am I boring you?) that the Patriot defense is very young & suspect, & their running game is comprised of anything but household names (aka "Danny Woodhead" Val: Who? Chess: Precisely!).

And all that being stated, they beat...no...they annihilated...a very, very, good football team last night in the New York Jets. And on a side note, thank goodness for the technology of pausing live T.V. or I would have never been able to witness the bloody execution (while flying solo with a house full of needy little ones & a wife on nights).

Artistry & Choreography are by no means two words that are synonymous with smash mouth, up the gut, pro football. But it's what your favorite blogger & mine appreciate most in the sport. And it was on full display yesterday evening in rare form.

Reminds me of how it wasn't good enough for Montana to hit Rice in stride on a go route in practice.

No.

Coach Walsh wanted the ball to arrive on the top right hand corner of the "8" on Rice's jersey when the route was run to the right, & on the top right hand corner of the "0" of the jersey when the route was to the left.

That's deadly, eye of the needle, precision, folks. And Few there be that find it.

I'm not a huge Brady fan. His off the field decisions have disappointed me. Then again, my off the field decisions have disappointed me. To err is human...

Furthermore, last night was but one game. Anything can & will happen once the frigid playoffs in January arrive. But what I witnessed yesterday evening was nothing short of perfection. So for that, my hat is off to the New England organization.

We live in a world that not only celebrates, but relishes mediocrity (i.e. the music industry). So when the closest thing to "self actualization" comes along regardless the profession, I feel as though I'm witnessing a rare treat. Hence today's blog.